The Shared Discernment Process (Stage One) in the Church of England is tough enough without the added pressures of neurodivergence. But in my region, the interviews — the Carousel Conversations — were still being carried out online due to the hangover from COVID. While this brought its own difficulties, for me, being at home actually made life a little easier.
I could be comfortable, grab a good cup of coffee, and have a few moments to myself between interviews to reset my brain.
But comfort doesn’t eliminate the anxiety. Here is how my unique brain tackled the online, high-stakes conversations and the moments where it all nearly came crashing down.

The Prep Hack: Anticipating the Follow-Up
The majority of my six conversations worked well because of my intensive preparation. For someone with ADHD, I’m often “all about the prep” to control the variable of spontaneous rambling.
My key strategy wasn’t just preparing the main topics or content — it was considering the follow-up questions.
You can take your own thoughts and images into many of these conversations, but the assessor will always probe deeper. I found that anticipating their next logical question allowed me to articulate my thoughts more thoroughly.
I had one interview, however, where I clearly wanted to talk about a specific thing within the context of the news article given, but this wasn’t the heart of what the assessor wanted to hear. They allowed me a few moments to gather my thoughts.
Key Tip: If you need a moment to process a complex question or just to reset your internal chaos, always ask for it. A simple, “That’s a great question; can I have a moment to gather my thoughts?” is a completely valid and professional request. I managed to gather my thoughts and answer the question more thoroughly because I paused.


The Panic: Rambling and Blank Faces
Even with all the preparation, two moments truly tested my composure:
1. The Disorienting Silence
In one online interview, I had absolutely no idea what the person talking to me was thinking. There wasn’t any feedback from their face or movements as there were in others.
For someone who relies on visual cues to gauge engagement and comprehension, this caused me significant angst then and in the days that followed. It’s hard to stay focused and concise when you feel like you are talking into a void.
2. The Hyperfocus Muddle
In my anxiety to be prepared, I had chosen resources to discuss from lists and life experiences. In one moment, I got so muddled that I talked about the same image for two separate interviews, describing its meaning to be the same, and why I liked it too — but explaining for those interviews what i saw its meaning as differently in each case.
I realised my mistake after about two minutes. The panic set in, but I managed to style it out — I still scored well in both — but the realisation set me back and stressed me for the rest of the day.
This highlights the neurodivergent struggle: we over-prepare, and then the sheer volume of information can cause a temporary breakdown in recall and thought organisation.
Key Tip: When preparing create 2 or 3 post-it notes with single phrases or sentences which you think may be important… your deep thoughts, a bible verse or something in the news. Stick these around your monitor, they can’t be seen by anyone but you. Also get a notepad, you can write down the questions and scribble your thoughts as you talk — its always a good idea to let the other person know you are making notes.

Taming the Ramble …Or Letting it Fly
One of my biggest concerns was my tendency to be verbose and ramble if I’m speaking off-the-cuff about something I care about.
In one interview, I pretty much talked for 10 minutes before the assessor asked a secondary question. I was explaining lots of contextual detail about a movie I had picked, and because the person hadn’t seen it, I felt an internal need to over-explain.
The surprising takeaway? Sometimes rambling is actually helpful. My verbosity gave me a chance to contextualise the film for today’s mission and ministry, and thankfully, the person understood the underlying reason for my detailed explanation.
Key Tip: Like teachers used to say, like you’re told in job interviews, and like my DDO told me: use the STAR technique (Situation, Task, Action, Result) and take your time. It provides an instant, structured framework that tames the ADHD urge to jump to the conclusion or ramble endlessly about the context.
The Final Wait
The scariest bit of this part of the discernment process was the wait after it was complete; the day itself went by fairly quickly. I also found myself almost apologising for my dyslexia and slow processing during the chats.
Looking back, it’s clear I didn’t need to — my preparation spoke for itself — but knowing me, I would probably do it again. It’s a deeply ingrained habit for those of us who have spent a lifetime compensating.
Discern with Dyslexia is a dedicated resource for neurodivergent candidates navigating the Church of England’s ordination discernment process. Built on personal experience, we offer practical roadmaps, candid reflections, and the theological assurance that your unique wiring is a spiritual gift. We are here to help you advocate for the support you need, proving that your authentic capacity to serve is valid.


